


This is Why I'm Hot

by paradis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor and Fluff, M/M, Officer Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradis/pseuds/paradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The floodlights kick on. Stiles is completely naked, and the cops show up, all at once. "Oh, shit," Greenberg says, and then runs so fast that he's gone before Stiles can blink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Why I'm Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: 'the one where it's all Stiles' jeans' fault.' 
> 
> I don't even know.
> 
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> There's a line in here I stole from TFLN, sort of. 
> 
> "(832):
> 
> I didn't notice because vodka"

**4:15 a.m.**

"This is a really big mistake," Stiles says.

"Yeah. They all say that."

"Honestly, a huge misunderstanding. I'm really not even sure how I got here."

The officer across the desk arches a brow at him. Stiles thinks he sees the quirk of an amused smile. He heaves a breath. "Gee," he says, sweetly, "these handcuffs sure are uncomfortable."

"You'll have to forgive me," the office says dryly, "I was wrestling you. Naked."

**10:00 p.m.**

"I really don't think those jeans are a good idea," Scott says. Stiles pouts and looks down at his jeans. They're skin tight, practically painted on, but they make his ass look nice, and with his flannel shirt and his chucks on, he's rocking the hipster look. Which apparently is a thing, so Stiles will roll with it. He puts a beanie on and grins at Scott.

"I think they're a great idea," he says, and grabs his wallet and car keys. "Wait, my wallet doesn't fit in my pockets - Scott wait you have to hold my wallet!"

Scott shakes his head and walks out the door.

When they get there, the strobe lights are going full blast, and the bass of the music is loud and vibrating against the cement floor, up against Stiles' toes. Stiles bobs his head a bit as he checks out the crowd. "Pretty busy tonight," Scott shouts into his ear. Stiles nods and scans the room again, spotting the rest of their group in a corner table, with drinks in their hands.

He jerks his head in their direction at Scott, and Scott turns to see them too, before they both start pushing through the crowd to get to them. It's quieter in the corner when they get there, enough so they don't have to scream at each other to hear. "Hey," Stiles says, kissing Lydia and Allison on the cheek. Isaac beams at them both.

"Here," Lydia shoves a shot glass in Stiles' hand, "got you a couple."

Stiles flashes a grin. "One of those night, huh? You aren't trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, are you Lyds?" Lydia rolls her eyes.

"As if," she huffs. "Danny will be here soon, he called to tell me to tell you not to take all the good ones." Lydia eyes him. "Did you spray paint those jeans on?"

Stiles beams.

"He had to jump from the balcony to get them on," Scott says.

Lydia and Allison wince and nod, and Isaac just laughs. Lydia shoves another shot into his hand, and the night is on.

**2:15 a.m.**

"Okay bro, time to go home."

Stiles shakes his head and the whole world tilts to his side. "I'm good okay," he slurs. "I'm just really, really good. And Greenberg says he'll make sure I get home."

Scott looks skeptical. He glances to where Greenberg is heatedly grinding up against some blonde. Greenberg shouts, "It's all good man, he'll be fine!"

"Hey, look!" Stiles straightens up happily. "It's Danny! Hi, Danny!" Danny comes up to Stiles and puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"How much have you had, Stiles?"

"A _lot_ ," Stiles says cheerily, waving a hand around. "Lydia insisted. Hey, Danny, wanna dance?" Stiles looks up and Danny is laughing.

"You're a hot mess, Stiles," he says, but leads him onto the dance floor.

**4:25 a.m.**

"You said, and I quote, 'the police are a conspiracy!'"

Officer Hale even does an imitation of Stiles' voice. Stiles whimpers. A sudden tackle to the ground apparently quickly sobers him. He's chilly in the gym shorts and sleeveless shirt Officer Hale lent him.

"It was the vodka. I don't remember anything because vodka."

"Because vodka," Officer Hale repeats flatly.

"There was a lot of it."

"You -"

**3:25 a.m.**

"I am _so hot_ ," Stiles cries, tugging at his jeans. Danny eyes him and then shrugs.

"Yeah, a little," he agrees.

"Not that kind of hot - although I am that too," Stiles says confidently. "I just - need - these - jeans off! Aha!" His jeans come off.

"Stiles," Danny hisses, laughing. “We are in the street!"

"But I have a hot body," Stiles says, unconcerned. "So everyone should _appreciate_ that they get to see this fine piece of ass."

"Guys, we're teepeeing Coach's house," Greenberg comes up to them. "A bunch of our old team members."

"That is a _great_ idea," Stiles says, bouncing a little. "We should so do that!"

"Yeah we - what happened to your pants?" Greenberg blinks, eyes wide. He's as drunk, if not more, than Stiles, and so is Danny.

"I'm hot," Stiles tells him seriously. Greenberg gives him a once over.

"Yeah, okay," he nods. "Come on, we bought a bunch of toilet paper at the gas station."

**3:58 a.m.**

The floodlights kick on. Stiles is completely naked, and the cops show up, all at once. "Oh, shit," Greenberg says, and then runs so fast that he's gone before Stiles can blink. The cops park and Stiles looks down at where he's finally cold enough that some major shrinkage is happening right now and back up to where his dad's new rookie is getting out of the patrol car.

He looks at where Coach's trees are covered in toilet paper, and to where Danny is hiding behind a bush.

And then he shrieks, and starts running. His dick is out in the wind, he's barefoot and buck ass naked on a dare from Greenberg, and he's running down a suburban street with Officer Hale shouting, "Freeze, freeze!" After him.

"You're all a government conspiracy!" Stiles shouts after him. "One great big huge conspiracy!"

"Jesus Christ just shut up and freeze!" Officer Hale isn't even breathless, while Stiles is wheezing and trying very hard to keep a steady pace. His dad is going to _kill_ him if he gets caught.

"Stiles, _stop_!"

Something in Stiles' brain freezes and he comes to a complete standstill. "You know my name?" He asks brightly, because Officer Hale is nothing if not amazingly hot.

Officer Hale plows right into him.

And not in a good way.

Stiles shrieks, shouts, "Abuse! Assault! Harassment! _I am naked!_ " but he doesn't know why he says that. Maybe to just point out the fact that Officer Hale is jostling some very valuable gems down below.

Officer Hale grunts, gets ahold of both Stiles' wrists, and spins him around, to cuff him. "My father will hear about this!" 

"Your father is going to _kill_ you," Officer Hale says knowingly.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles slurs.

**4:30 a.m.**

"Look, who do I have to blow so that my dad doesn't have to come bail me out?" Stiles pleads. Officer Hale arches a brow.

"Your dad was alerted the second you ran. He's letting you stay the night."

"That's very generous of him," Stiles says. "But I'm not a fan of your accommodations."

Officer Hale gives him a toothy grin. He leans forward. "You don't have a choice."

Stiles' eyes widen. "I get a phone call! ... I get a phone call right?"

"No. You get a nice night in jail. So actually, if you'll follow me..." Officer Hale stands up. Stiles plants his feet to the ground.

"Oh no. No, no, no. I'm actually really happy sitting right here, Derek - I mean - uh. Officer Hale," he corrects, as Derek glowers at him.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me by first name?" He demands.

"We'll you mentioned it when you wrote me that ticket... And then when you pulled me over to tell me to fix my taillight. You know, you are way harsh on me, Officer Hale."

"And you," Derek says, "are spoiled by everyone else."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "No, okay, the other cops and I have an understanding. One that goes for most. Five miles over the speed limit is acceptable because no one really wants to waste their time on pulling someone over for that. Or they don't want to pull me over to tell me my taillight is _dimming_."

"They spoil you. Speeding is dangerous. And so is your taillight."

"My taillight just needed a good kick," Stiles argues.

Derek rolls his eyes. "Come on. To the cell block."

"Ugh, you are Satan," Stiles says when Derek tugs him up by the scruff of the shirt.

Derek puts him in the cell. "Look, I even got you a blanket and pillow."

Stiles says, "Damn, no mint on it." Derek rolls his eyes again and slams the door shut.

An hour later, he appears with a cup of coffee. "You do care!" Stiles cheers, taking the cup.

"Just shut up." He opens the door. "Come on."

"What?" Stiles frowns. "Did my dad come?" Derek just tugs him out the door. Like, out of the building.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me? Oh, god. Are you transferring me to the prison? Oh, god. I'm too pretty to go to prison!"

"Shut up, Stiles."

"I guess we could talk about how you tackled me naked. The potential for kids is lessened now."

"We can only thank god your offspring won't be running around anytime soon," Derek tells him.

"Officer Hale, I don't want to die tonight," Stiles says seriously, nervously.

Derek unlocks his car and opens the door for Stiles. "You're not going to die, Stiles. You're going to clean up Finstock's yard."

"What?" Stiles blinks.

"You can clean his yard up or I can stick you back in the cell for your dad to find in the morning," Derek says, leaning against the car and crossing his arms.

Stiles heaves a sigh. "I'm still a little drunk. I can't promise a fantastic job."

"I'll make sure you do," Derek says.

**11:15 a.m.**

Stiles sits straight up and wakes up. He inhales sharply and looks around. He groans and covers his eyes and falls down again, wincing. "Stop moving."

Stiles sits straight up again.

He looks over. "Officer Hale," he squeaks.

Derek grunts and opens one eye. "You could probably call me Derek now."

"Oh, my God."

Derek frowns. "You blacked out? You were mostly sober."

"I didn't black out," Stiles says. "I just forgot for a moment."

"So you remember?"

"I remember everything," Stiles says, not entirely truthfully. "Um. Except being naked. With you."

Derek sighs. "Stiles."

"No, wait! I remember consenting! Repeatedly! Enthusiastically! After I tripped over some toilet paper in Finstock's yard and you caught me, and then we started kissing."

Derek nods. "You said you tripped intentionally."

"It wasn't intentional," Stiles says.

"I know," Derek says.

"You didn't really call my dad last night did you?"

"I cut a deal with Finstock," Derek shrugs.

"That I would clean his yard up at five in the morning."

"Yeah," Derek says. "He really enjoyed watching you clean that up."

"Not as much as you though?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "I liked seeing you wear my clothes," he offers.

"You didn't really pull me over because I was speeding. Or because I had a _dim taillight._ "

"No," Derek shrugs.

"I'm kind of hot," Stiles says in awe.

Derek glances at him. "Yeah," he says, "you are."

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested you can find me on tumblr @ dylanobilinski.


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